


In Sickness and In Health

by sunlightsmarrow



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Cuddling, Finn is sick, Fluff, M/M, Poe is hurt, but his baby is okay, happy new year, shameless fluff, there's always cuddling with these two how can I not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 20:36:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5599978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunlightsmarrow/pseuds/sunlightsmarrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn's feeling a little under the weather and lonely.  Poe starts to make him feel better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Sickness and In Health

‘Fine’ wasn’t something that Finn would consider himself right now. He knew that the immune system didn’t have a physical location in his body, but he could feel it working overtime as he sipped some coffee for his breakfast and poked some eggs around his plate. He had to breathe through his mouth because his nose was stuffed up severely, and from the way that his ear throbbed when he swallowed, today would be a day that involved a lot of sitting in bed.

He had woken up weeks ago and had made a decent recovery. He still wasn’t entirely himself, but he was functional and that was enough. Poe had been around him in Rey’s absence, assimilating him to this new culture, but it was hard because Poe had a lot of work to do and so did General Organa and while the other pilots took interest in him, no one looked at him like Poe did. No one found their hand on his shoulder, a soft smile on their face as they explained something to him calmly, like Poe did. He was so protective of him and Finn grew to realize that even if he swore after he woke up that he'd never touch a blaster again, a threat to Poe Dameron was a threat to him and he'd kill anyone who so much as threatened to hurt his best friend.

But right now, no one paid much attention to how little he was eating. Finn could tell that he was losing weight from his time under and the horrible cold that came after. His clothes were loose and he was pale in the mirror, his eyes bloodshot and his skin clammy.

Finn worked his way back to his room, shuffling through the halls with his shoulders hunched trying to ignore the pain in his ears and the weight in his head. Swiping into his room, he pulled of Poe’s jacket and set it down on his pillow. He kept it with him at all times, even when it was too warm to wear it because Poe wasn’t here very often, usually fighting in his X-Wing far away while Finn recuperated, but it smelled like him and the safety that Finn felt when he was wrapped in his arms. That sensation in itself was a foreign one, but Finn realized that he had a lot to learn before the members of the Resistance looked at him as one of their own, and he'd have to start with the social cues that Poe was slowly teaching him.

Finn toed off his shoes and set them under his bed neatly. He had learned as a Stormtrooper to keep everything neat, impersonal, and his habits were similar here on the base. His bed was always made, what little of the things in his room always in perfect order. It gave him a shock once when he had followed Poe into his room one of the blessed few times that the pilots had time back, because the general disarray would have driven him mad in Poe's position. Finn shook his head in tangential correction. There were plenty of pilots around, but with Poe being their leader and their best, he was always out on their missions to strategize in the field.

Lately, Finn spent his days sleeping and trying to eat, and now he was preparing to do the former. He pulled the worn blankets away from the bed and slid beneath them, huddling his face to the jacket and inhaling as best as he could in order to get that scent in his head: of rocket fuel and leather and...just comfort. And everything that Poe was. Logically, it was his seldom-used aftershave, but something in Finn’s mind made it a home he never had. 

With the scent of Poe Dameron filling his mind, Finn closed his eyes in an attempt to lure sleep to him. The base continued to whir and people continued to pass by, and twenty minutes must have passed with Finn working on a light doze, shaking awake with a cough as soon as the drool started to drip out of his mouth.

If a roar could be gentle, the sound of X-Wings returning was it. Hurried footsteps came down the hallway. The sound overshadowed much of the base, mainly because it was always a long-awaited sound, but also that ten fighters coming back was quite loud. But like the apex of a symphony, the sound was not entirely unpleasant.

Finn’s eyes snapped open and he moved to pull his shoes on. He laced them up and tied them and slowly got up, reaching for the jacket. Shrugging it onto his shoulders, he examined it for bodily fluids and determined it clean. He meandered over to his mirror and looked at himself, squinting through his headache and earache and determining that he was presentable enough.

He pulled his door open and started down the hallway, but it wasn’t long before and orange jumpsuit came into his line of sight. Poe looked different. His smile was there, but it was too relieved and his eyes were too bright.

“Buddy,” sighed his best friend. Those dark curls were buried in Finn’s neck, but the ex-trooper could feel his best friend’s breath on his throat and it sent a visible shiver down his spine. Poe was alive. Every time he came back, Finn had to close his eyes and just feel the only best friend he ever had breathing around him. “I missed you.”

Finn could only hug him tighter, rubbing his face into the harness and inhaling that smell that he lived for. “Me too,” replied Finn, his voice thick and scratchy from his illness. Poe squeezed him again and then pulled away, hands gripping his friend’s biceps and the smile falling from his face. He worried his lip in concentration and roved his huge brown eyes over Finn’s face.

“Oh...I’m sorry. I just...I was so relieved because it was so bad...” Poe had gotten hit. He had spiraled out of control and he had to keep the horror he felt has he spun into oblivion inside because Finn didn’t need to hear it right now. He could talk about the fear he felt every time he left his side later, but now, Poe had to get Finn to bed. “Have you eaten recently? How much sleep have you had?” Those arms were around his shoulders and Finn felt himself tucked into Poe’s solid body from years of twisting and sweating and working his ship into his body.

The pair headed back into Finn’s room and once the door was secured, Poe was peeling off Finn’s jacket and folding back the covers. He pushed his friend down on the bed and propped his boot up on his knee, unlacing the heavy things and casting them to the floor haphazardly. “I’ll get you some soup, buddy, and get out of this--”

“You don’t have to.”

That smile was there again, slow and wholesome, crinkling Poe’s eyes as if he had all the time in the world and Finn snuggled a little farther under his covers. “Stay, please.” Those impossibly dark eyes pleaded with the brown saucers and Poe sighed, snapping the harness off of himself and zipping his jumpsuit down and folding it down over his hips. Poe, of course, wore a shirt underneath to collect the sweat, and he peeled it off to not make the cooling wetness frigid against Finn's overheated skin. He crawled into bed next to his friend. He played with the tight black curls at the back of his neck and waited until Finn's breathing evened out. 

It really hadn't good, thought Poe, nestling his body a bit closer. He legitimately thought he wasn't going to make it that run around, but he wanted to get Finn soup at the same time. But his bones were exhausted and so he buried his face in the soft expanse of flesh that was offered to him and slept.

~~~

Poe managed to wake up before Finn and slid out of his bed. He gathered up his things and left the room, allowing the door to whir closed behind him. He headed straight for the canteen, his half-awake brain leading him to places he had gone a million times, but he could see that it was dark, so it must be night at this point. 

It was still open with one person keeping watch over the soups and sandwiches that people could still purchase, and the woman behind the counter smiled at him and began rooting around for something to get him. 

“Finn’s sick,” she said, knowing that Poe was effectively his caretaker. “And I’m sorry about your ‘Wing.”

“She wasn’t mine. Needed some maintenance. Don’t know what I would have done if she was taken out.” They didn’t talk about how he had almost died, for news traveled fast and you should have heard the screams coming over the intercoms in the X-Wings. They didn’t talk about the cuts and bruises that worked up his cheekbones and kissed his forehead. She slipped the soup across the counter and Poe paid her, but she stopped him with a gentle touch to his bare arm.

“He’s lucky to have you, Poe. You should see how he is when you’re away.” A soft smile flashed across her face and Poe’s stomach fluttered. "We're glad you're back safe."

“Thanks,” he said, taking the soup and exiting the canteen, a slow, rueful smile just barely touching his eyes. It was a quick trip back to Finn’s room, and it was easy to get back in because Leia had allowed him to have a key made if he would get back late from a mission. She had an understanding with him that he was allowed to check on his best friend because Poe was Finn’s first real bond in this world, and ‘who was she to give the poor child more anxiety?’ 

Poe set the soup down on Finn’s bed stand and crawled back to bed with him. He was still stinky and maybe in the morning Finn would ease back into the norm of things, and Poe hoped that taking care of his best friend would calm his frazzled nerves enough before Leia sent him on another mission.

Poe pressed warm lips to the back of Finn’s neck and snuggled in a little closer, enjoying the smell of him and how comforting it was to share his heat with someone who always wore his jacket, even when it was too warm for it. Admittedly, Finn was a little warmer than usual, probably due to a mild fever, but the gentle shivering and the way that his breathing wasn’t quite even enough had Poe working his way into being as close to Finn as possible without waking him. He was there when Finn had woken up weeks ago, and he’d be here for the rest of Finn’s returns to consciousness as long as he was able.


End file.
